AN- Conversations like this are in the Centaur language, all conversations in italics are in Elvish.
PHOENIX and DRAGON: Through the World Gate
Chapter 13
…Llygoden heard a slight rustle behind him and was half turned when the arrow pierced his side, driving deep between his ribs. He only had a moment to realize he was hurt before he instinctively drifted, aiming for the marker stone in the Oakwood village center…
"Llygoden!" Screams rang out as a figure drifted into view in the village center, only to fall limply to the ground the instant it fully materialized. "Where's Awel! Somebody go get Awel!"
It was too late. A widening pool of blood, too much blood, flowed across the flagstones, filling the runes on the inset marker stone with red. The arrow had pierced Llygoden's side, sliding between his ribs and cutting through part of his heart. He'd have had no chance to survive, even if he'd landed at Awel's feet.
A council meeting was called several hours later, after the body of the young elf was removed to the Healing Hall to await burial. "Does anyone have knowledge of what Llygoden was doing this last week or so?" Naf Ianwdd asked wearily from his seat. Llygoden had been his nephew, his sister's only child, and she was not taking his death well. He'd finally had to ask Awel to sedate her, due to her hysterics.
"The last time I saw him was four days ago, as he was leaving for Lindenwood Grove," Myrddin explained. "He was going to check out something one of the Elderwood Grove scouts told him, something about a conspiracy to kidnap the boys."
"Were the forest guards able to identify the arrow's owner?" Naf Mieri asked quietly, her dark blue eyes saddened at the loss of such a young member of their clan. She was the master weaver of the village and one of the quieter members of the council. Unlike most elves, which chose to wear their hair loose, or pulled back at the sides in small braids, she wore her dark blond hair woven into a thick crown on top of her head to keep it out of the way when she worked at her looms.
Myrddin shook his head. "It was a standard arrow issued to all of the forest guards. No Grove markings or ownership runes on it." He sighed and rubbed his face wearily. The last few hours had been hard on everyone. Llygoden had been loved by many people in the village, and nobody was taking his death well, especially his godson Gavin. He thanked the Goddess that the twins had at least been spared the sight of Llygoden's death; they'd been visiting the centaur village and had only been told when they returned.
Telling them had been bad enough though, and Myrddin had only reluctantly left the boys with their Great Grandmother Etain to come to the meeting. Awel had given them a calming draught to ease their grief because Gavin's core was disturbed from the breaking of the godfather bond and it could cause him harm if his magic flared. It had been difficult explaining to him why there was suddenly something missing; he'd never consciously noticed the bond he had with his godfather, but now that it was gone it was as if a part of him been torn away, leaving a gaping hole.
The meeting continued for several hours as the council sifted through what little information could be found. The scout from Elderwood had been sent for, as well as the captain of the Lindenwood guard. In the end, it was decided that Myrddin would go to Lindenwood Grove immediately after the funeral to try and trace Llygoden's movements.
A waning moon shone down on the group gathered in a small rocky clearing, barely providing enough light to see each other's faces. They were all dressed similarly; dark hooded cloaks worn over a simple tunic and sturdy leggings of green or brown, the normal garb of a forest guard. The symbols of several different clans marked their cloak clasps; this was a group drawn together by political ambition, not blood.
"Are you sure you killed him?" A dark haired elf asked another elf with light brown hair anxiously. "If he were able to identify any of us…."
"He's dead," a voice answered from the darkness. "The Oakwood Council called in the Captain to ask about him." An elf with white blond hair stepped out of the forest and sat on a boulder beside another very similar looking elf, perhaps a sibling or close cousin. "He kept as much as he could from them, but he could only hide so much without drawing suspicion down on himself."
There were gasps from several of those gathered, and soft conversation broke out as they discussed the implications. "We'll have to split up for now and lie low until suspicion dies down," a voice finally announced from the darkness. "I'll send a message to meet when I think it's safe. We'll have to rethink our plan to take the boys; they'll be guarded much closer now, but having their godfather gone may work in our favor." Dimly seen nods were the only response, and the clearing was soon deserted once more as shadowed forms drifted back into the dark forest.
The entire village stood silently in a circle among a stand of small oak trees, watching as the sun set and waiting for true darkness to arrive. Four of the forest guards knelt outside of the circle beating on large drums, the deep sound echoing through the forest like the beat of a giant heart. Between them stood four more forest guards, silently holding carved horns with silver mouthpieces.
On the ground within the circle of elves lay Llygoden's body, dressed in white linen with his arms crossed on his chest, his hair carefully braided with white ribbons. Eight large white candles were set around him and a brass brazier filled with oil soaked oak wood ready to be lit lay waiting at his feet. On his chest, set carefully between his crossed arms, lay a perfect red apple.
The horns sounded three times, the sound echoing through the forest as the last rays of the sun disappeared. A figure in a white linen robe stepped forward to stand at Llygoden's head. "We are here to honor the life of Llygoden and commemorate his journey into the Summerlands. Lo, an Ancestor is made!"
The village echoed the priest. "An Ancestor is made!
Dylluan raised his hands up towards the slowly appearing stars. "Hail to our Ancestors!"
The villagers held hands and raised them all together towards the stars. "Hail to our Ancestors!"
Dylluan raised his hands again towards the stars. "Hail to our Kindred!"
"Hail to our Kindred!"
"Hail to the Mysteries!" The High Priest said, completing the invocation.
"Hail to the Mysteries!"
The steady heart beat of the deep drums beat louder for a moment then softened so as to be barely heard.
The second part of the ceremony began. "Fires of Creation come forth within us! Sacred Fire be a beacon for Llygoden, guiding the child of our clan to the house of the Dead, the resting-place of souls on their journey to the Summerlands. Sacred Fire awaken!"
"Sacred Fire awaken!"
Dylluan raised his arms suddenly, palms up to the sky, and flames leapt from the tips of the candles placed around Llygoden, the sudden flare of light revealing the tear streaked faces of those gathered to say their fare wells.
Llygoden's mother stepped forward, supported by her brother, and lit the brazier placed at her son's feet. She stood for a moment as the wood caught fire, looking down at her only child then stepped shakily back to join the circle.
"Waters of Memory flow forth within us! Holy Waters be a swift current for Llygoden, carrying him smoothly to the house of the Dead, the resting-place of souls on their journey to the Summerlands. Holy Waters flow forth!" Dylluan sprinkled water over Llygoden's body in blessing.
"Holy waters flow forth!"
"Tree of All Worlds grow forth within us! Holy apple of the Otherworld be a gift for Llygoden, welcoming him to the house of the Dead, the resting-place of souls on their journey to the Summerlands. Sacred Tree grow strong!" The High Priest bent and placed a single perfect acorn beside the apple on Llygoden's chest.
"Sacred Tree grow strong!"
"Llygoden, hear me! We thank you for the time our souls shared together. You are not gone, but live in our memories eternal and our life is richer for your presence. Come forth among us once more, Llygoden, that we may say our farewells and grant you our forgiveness for any wrongs you may have done in life and receive yours for any we have done to you, so that balance may be attained as you complete the cycle of Life." Dylluan nodded to Llygoden's mother, and she knelt to throw a handful of dried sage leaves into the brazier at her son's feet. She stood once more as the rising cloud of fragrant smoke condensed and formed into the ghostly shape of her son.
The apparition gazed sadly into his mother's eyes then reached out to stroke her cheek lovingly. She tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it as tears streamed down her face, then turned away without speaking and stepped back into the circle, several people pulling her into an embrace in an attempt to comfort her.
The circle of people moved slowly clockwise as one by one they would step forward to speak of things they remembered about Llygoden's life, then turn to the spirit to express their love and say farewell. Finally it was Gavin's turn.
Llygoden's spirit gazed sadly down at Gavin where he stood in front of his godfather, his green eyes glistening with tears. "Don't go, Llygoden," Gavin pleaded softly, a tear slowly gliding down his cheek. "I love you…don't go!"
The ghost shook his head sadly then reached to stroke Gavin's cheek in farewell before turning to give Dylluan a respectful nod. The High Priest gestured towards the brazier and the fire flared, quickly consuming the remaining wood and allowing the spirit to slowly fade as the smoke dispersed.
Gavin collapsed into a heap on the ground beside the brazier as the spectral form of his godfather disappeared. "Noooo! You can't leave! Please don't leave me!" he screamed wildly, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want you to go…Gwydion, please ask if he can stay?" Gavin's voice cracked as he pleaded with his brother to intercede with the Dark Lord. "Don't leave me…," he sobbed broken heartedly. "I need you…."
Gwydion shook his head sadly and knelt to pull his twin into his arms. "I already asked him Gavin," he whispered into his brother's ear as he held him tightly. "…he said it was Llygoden's time, and there wasn't any way to change that." Tears ran down his face as he had to deny his brother's request. "We can't bring him back…."
"It's not fair! I need him!" Gavin wailed as he pushed Gwydion roughly away and curled up on the ground, blinded by his grief. "Bring him back…please…," he whispered brokenly.
Gwydion stood and threw himself against Etain, sobbing softly, hurt by his brothers rejection. "Shhhh…he doesn't mean it," she reassured him as she rubbed his back gently. "He just hurts too much right now."
"I'm sorry Gavin…I can't bring him back…," Gwydion whispered to himself. 'I can't bring any of them back,' he thought sadly, missing the mother and father he'd never known so badly it made his heart hurt. 'Gavin lost his parents the same time I did, but he had Myrddin, Etain and...Llygoden all his life. This is the first time he's lost someone close to his heart. I didn't have anyone until I came here...Its not fair...we're only nine years old...we shouldn't have to worry about dieing...'
Myrddin stepped forward and gathered a sobbing Gavin into his arms, cradling him against his chest as Dylluan spoke the words to complete the ritual.
"We stand at the borders and watch the mists close in, waves rolling where shore meets the ocean, where land meets sea and sky, where Life meets Death. We call to you, Lord Herne; we welcome you, as you one day will welcome us." Dylluan raised his arms high, face towards the now bright stars. "Dark Lord, Lord of the Dead, protector of Life; let the gates be open! Lord Herne we call upon you as the ferryman; guide Llygoden to the shores of the Summerlands, that he may join his honored Ancestors." He lowered his arms and sprinkled water over the body once more.
The horns sounded three times, the long notes echoing mournfully through the darkness, accompanied by the soft thump of the drums. Many of the villagers wailed their grief, tears streaming down their faces.
"We call to our Beloved Dead, the blessed Ancestors, to welcome Llygoden among you. Dark Lord, I thank you for your protection and guidance of Llygoden as he completes his journey," Dylluan called as Llygoden's mother sobbed, sagging in her brother's arms. "Journey well Llygoden, and take your place among the Ancestors in the Otherworld."
"We give thanks for those who shared with us their memories of Llygoden. Find peace within yourselves, take comfort in the warm embrace of your loved ones around you, and be resolved in the knowledge that this life's journey of Llygoden is completed. Let him return to the womb of the Great Mother!" Dylluan sprinkled blessed water over Llygoden for a third time, then held his hands out over the body, palms down, and slowly spread his arms, chanting softly the whole while.
The acorn on Llygoden's chest trembled and then suddenly burst open, growing almost instantly from tiny sprout to sturdy sapling as the elf's body seemed to crumble in upon itself, transforming into rich nourishing loam in the space of a heartbeat, leaving nothing but the small oak tree to show he ever existed.
Dylluan sighed as he looked around the circle, giving everyone a chance to compose themselves. There were many faces with tears, but others had a look of anger and determination as well. The young elf's death would not be forgotten, nor forgiven, should the murderer be found. When everyone was looking at him once more, he completed the ceremony. "As Llygoden is departed from the world of Cymru, now one with the Ancestors, so let us close the gates between the Otherworld. Let the Tree recede into the realm of the Other, let the Well now be only water and let the Fire now be only smoke and ash. Let all be as it was before. Let the gates be closed."
The villagers spoke together to end the ceremony, many of their voices rough with tears. "Let the gates be closed." The drums ended their steady beat as the final word was spoken, leaving an echoing silence throughout the sacred grove. Dylluan silently gestured and the candle flames went out. Llygoden was gone.
In the end, Myrddin had to carry Gavin home, because he hadn't wanted to leave Llygoden's gravesite; the loss of the bond with his godfather, and the resultant disruption of his magical core, amplified his grief to a nearly unbearable level. Gavin had finally drifted into an exhausted sleep with the aid of a weak sleeping potion, and Myrddin was sitting beside his bed in case he woke again.
"Great Grandmother, why did someone kill Llygoden?" Gwydion asked later with a tear roughened voice. He'd been unable to sleep again after he'd awoken from a nightmare, and was curled up in a chair with Etain.
Etain considered her answer for a moment then decided the boy was old enough at nine to know the truth of what was happening, especially since it concerned him and his brother's safety. "Llygoden was trying to find out about a group of people who want to take you from us so they can use you to make themselves more important," she explained. "They think if they have control of you, they will have more power, and will be able to make the High Council do things the way they want."
Gwydion nodded his understanding. The Goddess had been explaining a lot of things to the twins lately; the different political factions in Cymru, the splits in the priesthood, the inter clan rivalries, and the histories of previous wars against the Dark and the way trouble repeated itself. "Was it the ones who want to close the World Gates?" he asked quietly. Etain nodded thoughtfully, agreeing that they were the most likely suspects. She was surprised Gwydion knew about that. "Do you think they'll try to take us?" It was one of his greatest fears; now that he had a family, he didn't want to loose it.
"They might, child." Etain sighed. "We'll have to be careful, especially when your Grandfather goes to find out why Llygoden was killed."
Gwydion shifted against her as another thought came to him. "Can you tell me about godfather bonds?" he asked, puzzled about something he felt in his own magic. He had never noticed any difference between his and Gavin's magic, until a part of his brother's was gone. Gwydion had gone into his core and examined a slender strand of magic extending outwards from a place where his brother now had a ragged hole. He'd never paid particular attention to the strand, since Gavin had had one as well and he'd assumed it was normal, but with Llygoden's death his brother's was gone and it had started him thinking.
"When a baby is born the parents choose someone to watch over and guide their child. There is a magical bond formed between the godparent and the child which allows them to help the child control their magic if something happens to the parents in the first few years; without this help a small child's magic can sometimes get out of control if they're angry or frightened and injure themselves or others around them. The bond helps ground the child's magic until they are old enough to control it themselves," Etain explained. She wasn't sure why Gwydion was asking, but assumed it was because Gavin's magic had changed with the loss of the bond.
"Do I have a godfather or godmother?" Gwydion asked, puzzled because he didn't remember anything in the naming ceremony that would have given him one.
"No, we didn't name one because you were already old enough that you really didn't need it and you were going to start your training soon anyway. Llygoden offered to be your godfather as well, but we thought it might be too much of a shock for your magic, so soon after your bonding with Gavin."
Gwydion thought for several minutes, reaching to feel the thin strand that extended from his core. He carefully tugged on the strand, feeling a resistance, as if it were connected to something…or someone. "Great Grandmother, I think I do have a godparent," he said finally. "Gavin and I both have strands of magic that went out from our cores – one big one between me and Gavin, and a little one going somewhere else. Gavin's little one is gone now, but mine is still there."
Etain looked down at her great grandson thoughtfully. 'I wonder…maybe we didn't ask enough questions about Gwydion's past in the human world; it might be worth while checking for more information,' she thought. 'I'll have to speak with Myrddin about this.'
A short distance away in the forest, a centaur stood quietly, his face raised to the sky. "Mars is bright tonight…," he murmured with a troubled expression.
Beside him, a second centaur turned his face to follow the track of a shooting star as it crossed Orion's belt then disappeared with a flash, as if it had struck the brightest star in Canis Major. He stiffened as a vision took him. "Prophecies children must steal the Dog Star from the soul killers before he is lost. They will need his guidance and protection in the coming days," he whispered, lost in a fog of possibilities.
The first centaur nodded thoughtfully as he heard the seer's words. "I will let the children know, when it is time."
Far away, in a place of total despair and dreams more terrible than any mortal nightmare, an emaciated man with shaggy black hair stirred restlessly in his exhausted sleep. Something had just tugged gently on his magical core.
AN - Hope this one brought out the tissues. Stay tuned for the next chapter - more danger and tears to come!